MTL - The Little Moments When I’m In Love With You - Chapter 229 the sun is always behind the storm

The three-year marriage had been torturing her like shackles. Finally, she decided to break free from this cage, only to find that she was pregnant with triplets. When she was leaving, she had no choice but to leave her daughter, who was in critical condition due to premature birth, to her ex-husband, and then she flew far away with her two sons.Several years later, she returned to the country and wanted to secretly visit her daughter, but was discovered by her ex-husband!“Who are these two little boys?”“How do I know? Maybe they are your offspring.”The man gnashed his teeth and was about to snatch the sons away. She stopped him at once and said angrily, “Have you forgotten how you treated me before? How dare you take my sons by force?”He sneered and picked her up in his arms, saying, “Babe, my target is not them, but you!”

Li Yu transmigrated to a world of the cultivation and martial arts. He became the head disciple of a low-ranking sect.

[Warning: Mature content, R18, Harem, Monster Girls, No NTR, No Rape ]He was a prostitute who had a simple dream. Living in peace, going to college and getting a good job like an average man of his age. But when he decided to leave his old life behind and pursue his dream, he was killed by demons.But he got a second chance as a dragon king in a different world. A world filled with monsters and strange tribes that he had never seen before. As the protector of that foreign world, he tried his best to regain his power before the other tribes realized it. Then ... he discovered the secret of the Dragon King's power was he must build a harem ...

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”